


Dear Diagon Alley

by siriusleenott



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 10:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14079048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusleenott/pseuds/siriusleenott
Summary: Diagon Alley has been the home of magic gathering for decades. But it small shops and cafes all bustle with more than just nice encounters - there's something inherently magic about the place. And with something that magic, it will attract even more.Prepare for a journey to meet the shop owners of this narrow street hidden in the middle of Muggle London.





	Dear Diagon Alley

* * *

 

_Saturday October 30_

     “And then I need seven stems of motherwort.”

     Matthew nodded in reply, went over to a large pot by the counter and cut seven stems of the mint-smelling plant. Mulligrubs Materia Medica was quiet this monday morning, as it usually was. In fact - Mulligrubs was only ever busy when there was an outbreak of dragon-pox, which rarely happened nowadays. Yet it had been operating from its small venue in Diagon Alley for generations.

     Matthew carefully wrapped the stems in brown paper with a small string around the end, and added it to an already quite full bag.

     “Anything else, Mrs Dwale?” Matthew asked.

     “Do you store any witch’s ganglion?” Mrs Dwale asked, looking up from a parchment she was reading.

     “Witch’s ganglion?” Matthew wasn’t sure he had heard about it before.

     “Yes, witch’s ganglion,” the witch answered with a sigh. “Endemic to South Korea. Blood-red in colour. Throbs. Do you have any of those?”

     Matthew felt his blood boil.

     Mrs Agnodice Dwale visited his store at least once a week and was one of his most loyal customers. She didn’t mind paying a lot of galleons for rare herbs and plants, unlike many others that frequented his store, and she always told him how happy she was with what he sold her. She was one of the senior healers at St Mungo’s and Matthew had heard she invented a potion that significantly slowed down the process of vanishing sickness. And Matthew resented her with passion.

     Matthew had always dreamt of becoming someone important, someone like her, but the family heritage of running the little store had inevitably fallen on him. That’s why he resented Mrs Dwale - she was everything he was not. She was even beautiful, with a slender body, a dark complexion and jet-black hair carefully braided. Him? A middle-aged wizard with balding hair and a stomach that seemed to quietly grow larger, who had never achieved anything higher than that one time he won a tournament of exploding snap in the Slytherin common room.

     “No, we don’t,” Matthew replied through gritted teeth.

     “Then that will be all,” Mrs Dwale said. “What do I owe you?”

     As Mrs Dwale paid and left the store with her bags, Matthew slumped back on his chair behind the counter. He hated his job, he had always done so. A couple of years after he had taken over the store from his father Matthew had brought up the idea to maybe sell it to his mother. The argument had been the biggest the Mulligrubs household had ever seen, and she had proceeded to send him howlers for a week before he reluctantly agreed that selling Mulligrubs might not be the best idea.

     The day progressed much like any other day. Matthew tended to his plants, helped the odd customer, and did inventory of the pumpkins. At noon he ate a sandwich by the counter, the daily tuna-mayo sandwich, whilst he was reading the paper. After he was done, he would put away the paper and polish the windows. That’s how every day progressed, and that’s how this day would have progressed, if not for a tall wizard entering the store.

     “Sorry, we’re closed for lunch,” Matthew said, his half-eaten sandwich still in his hand.

     The wizard looked at Matthew with hooded eyes. He was wearing black robes and a large pointed hat which was casting shadows over his long beard. His face looked sunken, almost if he had been sick for a long time, and he was carrying a battered briefcase. He gave Matthew the chills, without fully understanding why.

     “I said,” Matthew repeated, trying to put more force behind the words. “We are closed.”

     “We’re looking for the juniper flowers.”

     The wizard’s mouth hadn’t moved, and for a second Matthew was scared that a legilimens had entered his store. Then the wizard took a step aside, and a goblin dressed in a maroon three-piece suit walked in behind him. This confused Matthew even more. There had never been a goblin in Mulligrubs before.

     When Matthew didn’t reply the goblin walked up to the counter and knocked on the wood.

     “We’re looking for juniper flowers,” the goblin repeated.

     “I’m sorry,” Matthew said as he collected his thoughts. “Juniper flowers? Junipers don’t have flowers.”

     The goblin sighed, glanced at the tall wizard, who gave a small nod, and looked back at Matthew.

     “I heard it’s bloom is _particularly white_ this year,” the goblin said, putting emphasis on the last part.

     That’s when it hit Matthew.

     Since he was a little child he had always wanted to become someone special, someone who would be remembered in the history books. But he had also known it was all fantasies. His life consisted of Mulligrubs, and not much else. But a couple of months ago he had found a small mention about a burglary that happened in Nottingham. Someone had broken into an herbologist’s home and stolen a rare book on plants, rumoured to once have belonged to Cliodna.

     The _Prophet_ had made no more mention of the event, or the book, but Matthew hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. For months he had tried to gather information about the book, but the only thing he was able to find out was that it was real. So, not doing what to do next, he decided to put out an ad. Not knowing where to turn he sent it to the Quibbler, hoping that someone might take it seriously.

     The ad had been short, asking for any information regarding the book. He hadn’t left a name, just a small mention of ‘find me at Mulligrubs, by the white bloom of juniper’. Matthew had been particularly happy about those directions. He felt it had been a stroke of genius, and that only wizards and witches within those circles would understand what he meant.

     He had, however, not been expecting a goblin.

     “Yes,” Matthew said, hurriedly walking out from behind the counter. “Yes, of course. Come this way!”

     He opened a wooden door next to the counter and held it open for the two visitors. The goblin gave Matthew a suspicious look, but Matthew just responded with urgently nodding towards the opening. The goblin signed and walked through, followed by the tall wizard. Matthew was just about to follow when a thought hit him, and he grabbed his wand from the counter, aimed it at the door and mumbled _‘Colloportus’_. Better safe than sorry.

     The door led through a narrow corridor, through a second door, and then into a small courtyard. Bags of dragon dung were piled in the corner and filled the space with a musky smell. The two wizards and the goblin squeezed into the area, and Matthew gave a click glance upwards to make sure that Starling didn’t have her windows open. They were closed, and he turned back to the goblin, barely able to conceal his excitement.

     “My name is Urglak, the Ubiquitous,” the goblin said. “And this is my associate, Mr Lemon.”

     “Lemon?” Matthew asked.

     “That’s what he goes by,” Urglak said. “We saw your request in the papers, and we might be able to help.”

     “Really?” Now Matthew really couldn’t hide his excitement. “You’ve got the book?”

     “First things first,” Urglak said, holding up a finger. “We haven’t discussed the matter of payment.”

     “Yes, of course,” Matthew said.

     He fished a pouch out of the pockets of his robes, clanging with the sounds of coins inside. It contained a full week’s profits from the store, and it would set him back quite substantially. But in his mind it was worth it. If he could get hold of a book written by Cliodna herself, a book which supposedly also was written about his a subject that related to his own profession, any amount of galleons would be worth it. He handed the pouch over to Urglak. The goblin took it, weighed it in his hand, and pocketed it.

     “Mr Lemon,” he said. “Please give Mr Mulligrub his book.”

     Mr Lemon nodded and pulled something out from beneath his billowing robes. It was a square packaged wrapped in brown paper. As Matthew almost jumped for the package, Mr Lemon’s yellow eyes caught Matthew’s and made him stop. Calmly Mr Lemon held out the package towards Matthew, and it wasn’t until Matthew got a small nod that he took it from the wizard’s hands.

     “Where did you get this?” Matthew asked, looking from Mr Lemon to Urglak. “Was it you who broke into the house?”

     “Less questions, Mr Mulligrubs,” Urglak said and grabbed Mr Lemon’s cloak. “Enjoy your book.”

     And with a _pang_ the two visitors apparated and left Matthew alone in the courtyard. For a moment he just stood there, staring at the spot where Urglak and Mr Lemon had just stood, before he looked down at what he was holding again. With shaking hands he ripped the paper off the package and held it up close.

     It was old and tattered, the leather binding was ripped and molded, and the title was almost unreadable under various stains. But there it was, in small bronze coloured letters - _Ye Book of Plants by Cliodna_. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but he was holding the original writings of the famous druidess in his hands. A bird chirp from up ahead made him remember that he was still outside and he clutched the book to his chest and went inside.

     Mulligrub Materia Medica stayed closed after lunch that day. In fact, it stayed closed for the coming three days.


End file.
